Sometimes it's enough
by Tuppence
Summary: Chapter II up. Faye goes through some of the memories she has of Spike and decides reluctantly to save his life yet again! Was she in time and what happens afterwards! Things will get a move on now. T for language. Please R&R FxS
1. Chapter I About You Now

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own Cowboy Bebop or anything else that may have helped with the inspiration behind this. Nor am I making any money from this. The lyrics are from my beloved Sugababes, About You Now. I want to try this new style where I have lyrics from a song at the start and the end. Please keep in mind that a) I don't own any of the songs, b) only the __lyrics__ that I've written are relevant to the chapter and that the tune of the song, the genre, the band, the rest of the lyrics, everything else may be wholly irrelevant or unsuitable, and c) it's something new I'm trying. So take pity. (And believe me when I say finding relevant lyrics is harder than might first appear.) Enjoy version II of this chapter from what was the prologue. ;)_

_Author's Note:__ This one came to me randomly today, when I finally took a break from Cowboy Bebop. (I've definitely been over-doing it lately.) And I thought this was a sweet, hopeful idea. I hope you guys like it. It might develop to be more than a one-shot but nothing's certain. Let me know if you see potential for it to develop into a multi-chaptered story, and also, if you think Spike should or shouldn't die in this. Thanks._

_I feel so much better about this. I had to re-edit this prologue, because the direction of the story finally came to me. I've not got part of the basic outline written down. The rest should be written down by tonight, and then, I'll start on Chapter 1. Hope you guys like it, and please R&R. I would really appreciate it._

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Sometimes it's enough

Chapter I – About You Now

_**It was so easy that night**_

_**Shoulda been strong, yeah I lied**_

_**Nobody gets me like you do**_

_**Could I keep hold of you then**_

_**How could I know what you meant**_

_**There was nothing to compare to**_

Faye's breaths were coming out heavily and painfully, as she sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. The tears had dried quickly, almost before they had fallen, and the dry sobs had stopped soon after. She just stared blankly at where Spike had been, before he had turned and walked away from her. She still couldn't understand why she hadn't shot him.

She'd tried it on Gren, and even though it hadn't stopped him, it would have stopped Spike. She was sure of it. Absolutely certain. For one, Spike had had his back entirely towards her. For another, if she had succeeded in shooting him – and she was sure that she would have been – he wouldn't have been able to fight against her, the way Gren had. And she was equally certain he wouldn't have silenced or stopped her with a kiss – kisses – the way Gren had.

So she returned to glaring at the bullets, as if that would alter anything. Of course it wouldn't, but it was easier than going through all of the guilt she felt right now. And not only was she incapable of talking right now, but her muscles felt far too heavy to move as well. The more the thought of an injured, dying Spike came to her, the more she felt incapable of moving.

_Why_ in the world had he done this? Distantly, as if trying to recall a dream (or a memory), she seemed to understand that he had to do it. If he hadn't, Vicious would have continued to come after him, and one meeting with Vicious had been more than enough for her to know that he wasn't the type of guy she'd want after her.

Memories drifted across her mind as she continued to glare at the bullets. The way he had looked the first time she had met him, across the Black Jack table. She had been sure he was attracted to her – it was in his body language. The way he leaned forward slightly, the knowing smile on his face as he watched her cheat him out of all of his chips, and that certain something in his eyes. It was only once she began to feel attracted to him herself that she began to doubt _his_ attraction to her. And the knowledge of _Julia_ was enough to convince her that if there had ever been any attraction, it had been skin deep at most, on Spike's part.

The recollection of Julia floated across her mind. Beautiful blonde hair, beautiful cold eyes, beautiful icy demeanour. It was easy to see why Spike and Vicious both had fallen in love with her. She wished that they could have maybe loved her less or hated each other less. Death shouldn't be the only way of dealing with this. A brief, momentary idea presented itself to her. Maybe it wasn't about Julia but betrayal? It was gone just as swiftly. Would it place Spike in any less danger? Would he be any less dead, if it was over betrayal rather than Julia? No. Damn it, _why_ hadn't she shot him?

She recalled to her mind another memory - a far more recent one. Spike pointing out that Faye herself may have led the attackers to Bebop, when she had accused him of calling them over. She had time to ponder this now. Spike had clearly known that other bounty hunters could follow Faye and attack the Bebop. He had known that she could bring them a whole lot of trouble, and they really didn't need any extra trouble. And he had _always_ complained about her staying on the Bebop, aside from a lot of other complaints too. So why hadn't he ever used this in an argument against her? Gods know that he used every other damn argument! Had he known that she would have taken it seriously and maybe even left them, for their own good? Well, she would have _tried_ to leave them, she thought honestly. A forbidden part of Faye call Hope whispered that maybe that was why he didn't tell her. Maybe he didn't want her to leave, because, if he was anything like her, then arguing was just a means of communication, not indicative of their inner emotions in the least. Maybe he liked her more than she realised, and he didn't want her to leave? She disregarded it.

A different reminiscence was developing in her mind by now. It was when she had first realised she actually liked the stupid man – when he had fallen out of that cathedral. A wry smile twisted her face that was comparable to the wry smiles Spike had often worn in his time. How appropriate that the first thing he spoke was insulting rather than a thank you. She didn't think she could ever recall him actually thanking anyone. Maybe he thanked Julia, the forbidden part of Faye called Pain whispered. She pushed this thought away as well. She knew Spike didn't love her. Julia was reason enough for Spike to not love her. She ignored the expected painful clutching at her heart. She was fairly immune to it, and when she expected it, it didn't hurt all that much. She really _should_ have shot him. Why, WHY, _why _hadn't she shot him?

Another memory slid into focus. Spike casually telling her to not think about her past, since she still had a future, and this made her think about the verbal exchange they shared before he left. _He_ was the one who was still obsessed with his past. A very irritating part of Faye called Logic whispered that Spike couldn't keep running from Vicious. They had to end it somehow and, Logic whispered again, the only way that Vicious could be stopped was by killing him. Or himself, Faye thought cruelly. But that was a thought that she didn't want to think about. She snorted in her head. He had said that he was going to find out if he was really alive, not to die, but if he was going away to fight the entire damn crime syndicate to fight Vicious, it was nothing short of suicidal.

A slight sob almost escaped her as she remembered another time when Spike had gone on one of his missions. It had been against that crazy Pierrot guy! And he had poked fun at the fears she had had on his behalf! He had mockingly asked her what if this was the one he wasn't coming back from? Well, it hadn't been that one, it was this one. Just kidding, he had said. Well, there hadn't been a just kidding this time! Would she come and save him, he had asked before leaving? Would she? Would she come and save him, her damned foot! He had probably been making fun of her. The bastard! Damn it, he'd deserved it, so _why_ hadn't she shot him?

She wondered why she did risk her life, time and again, to save that idiot's. A very uncomfortable part of Faye called Honesty whispered it was because she needed validation. She had nowhere to go, and nobody to turn to except for Jet and Spike. And, after losing her home and her family all over again, she was determined on saving any semblance of friends or family she had remaining. And this included Spike. She tried not to wonder if he wanted to be saved. He was being selfish by doing this to her, so she had every right to be selfish and save him. Honesty remained unconvinced. Faye always hated Honesty so, like everything else she hated (especially her debt), she ignored it.

She stood up on shaking legs. Spike really had been a first class idiot. Did he really have to ask her if she would come to him, if there was a chance he wouldn't be able to come back? She walked towards her Red Tail. She had a feeling he knew the answer, but, Hope whispered, maybe he had been asking for reassurance? She pushed the thought away as she prepared to go and find Spike and save his life _yet again_.

Instead of wondering why she hadn't shot him, she was now wondering why she was willing to save him yet again, despite the destructive (and stupid) obsession he harboured for Julia. She knew all he would do is insult her, mock her and laugh at her, and a sudden pang made her realise just how much she would miss it if he really didn't come back. Determination began to pump through her veins, making her steps stronger and confident. She'll make sure he'll come back.

She paused at her Red Tail. It was still badly damaged, and she was almost certain that she wouldn't be able to land it safely, but she got in. She was determined to be as stubborn as Spike, and if it meant risking her life to save his, she was more than happy to do it. And again, she wondered why.

She thought she heard Honesty within her whisper that when you cared for someone, you did whatever it took to make them happy; even at your own expense. It whispered that no matter how much it hurt or how little the emotions were reciprocated, sometimes it's enough for just the one of them to care for the other. She pondered over the words as she got inside the Red Tail.

Sometimes it's enough... The words seemed to give new life and new strength to Faye as she started the engine. She thought about Spike. Just...Spike. Any doubts and fears seemed to leave her. Sometimes it's definitely enough, she thought. She just hoped that she would reach Spike in time.

_**I know everything changes**_

_**All the cities and faces**_

_**But I know how I feel about you**_

_**There's a mountain between us**_

_**But there's one thing I'm sure of**_

_**That I know how I feel about you**_

_**I know everything changes**_

_**I don't care where it takes us**_

'_**Cause I know how I feel about you**_

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_Author's note:__ I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I had in writing it. I tried to make sure there weren't any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes but please let me know if there was. Would anyone be willing to beta-read for me? Reviews are always very welcome, as is criticism, if it is constructive. Let me know where I can improve, or if you just enjoyed it. Thanks._

_To mention it again, the lyrics are from Sugababes About You Now. I love them and strongly recommend any/everyone to youtube them, if they haven't heard them before. (But then again, I might have bad taste in music!)_

_Just wanted to give some particular thanks to Kyra1 and anime-catdragon for their very helpful reviews. This edition has been virtually all thanks to them. Hope you like this version. ___

_Trins xxx (a.k.a. Tuppence and Sweet Darkling)_


	2. Chapter II Winter Sun

_Author's Note:__ Good gravy. Sorry for taking so long to update. (7 and a half months! Ouch!) This one is a mammoth of a chapter and took a lot of time to write and research because I wanted to try and get all of the medical info somewhat plausible. I'm still not entirely sure if what I've written down is how it would happen, or should happen, but I do think this is what __could__ happen._

_The lyrics are from Winter Sun, by Dishwalla. As always, the rest of the song, the rest of the lyrics, or the type of song may be wholly irrelevant to this chapter, but I thought the lyrics I've used here were PERFECT for this chapter. I hope you agree. Let me know if you don't, or if you have some song/lyrics which you think may sound good in my fic. I really hope you enjoy reading this, and if you do, please take just a few seconds out to review my fic. If you don't like my fic, please take a few seconds out to tell me why. I would really appreciate it._

_Ps. I don't own Cowboy Bebop, if you haven't worked it out yet._

Sometimes it's enough

Chapter II – Winter Sun

_**I could hear you fall,**_

_**I could feel your body through the floor,**_

_**And all I see is the red of your blood for the first time**_

_**As I hold you there,**_

_**As I rush your pale life through the door**_

_**I feel the heat rise up, from your shape in the cold light**_

Willing her exhaustion away, Faye sat in the hard chair, mesmerised by the steady rise and fall of Spike's chest. It had been several days since she had slept properly but she had never desired sleep less, because nightmares seemed to disturb her every time she closed her eyes for more than a few seconds. It was to avoid this troubled sleep that she now sat in the uncomfortable chair, pinching herself every once in a while to try and stay awake. The nightmares left her feeling more exhausted than she had been before sleeping, so she only slept when she couldn't help herself. Now, her waking moments were beginning to feel like a nightmare too.

Getting to Spike had been one of the easier things that had been involved in this little disaster. The Redtail had been badly damaged, but it had still somehow successfully taken off from the hangar and flown. The steering had been awful – there were still bruises on her shoulder where it had refused to obey her commands, nearly crashing several times and causing her to bang her shoulders, but it had finally managed to reach Tharsis City. It hadn't been difficult to locate where Spike had rushed off to either. Smoke was spiralling into the sky and Faye had flown directly towards it without a second thought. Trust Spike to create chaos of such a monumental proportion. Having arrived at the site of the chaos, Faye had met her first dilemma – how the hell was she supposed to land? The wings of her Redtail were damaged enough to have made steering difficult but landing safely would have been even harder. Landing in a way that enabled the Redtail to fly afterwards was near impossible. Accepting the inevitable, Faye had decided to preserve her strength and had allowed it to drop casually outside the building, further bruising her shoulders.

Faye suddenly felt a surge of anger - directed at Spike, at herself, at the situation she now was in and the situation she had been in - as the memory of entering the building and searching for Spike came to life in her mind. She had held her gun ready, cursing herself for not remembering to bring ammunition. Fuck it! If she was going down, she'd decided to bring at least one other bastard down with her! When she had peered around the door, she had felt overwhelmed. Hordes of men had been running around, seemingly all in randomness, shouting words that melded together to form one big blur of a sound that she couldn't distinguish. She'd risked it, entering the chaos casually and pretending to be a part of it all, searching for any sign of Spike. After a few minutes, she managed to elicit the order within the chaos, and as soon as this realisation had hit her, she had began to run against the current, running towards whatever everyone else was running from. There was a sick feeling in her stomach, whether from emotional exhaustion, fear of what she would find or fear of what would befall her if somebody noticed her as an anomaly was a question she never bothered considering, mostly because before long, she had arrived at a large staircase and quickly seen the numerous carcasses at its foot. No clearer sign stating that Spike Had Been Here was needed. Faye had began to run up the steps, sometimes taking two at a time, her right hand dangling her gun uselessly at her side. It wasn't long before a prostrated figure came within her sights. Faye pushed herself to run faster, the nauseous feeling worsening because of the stitch in her side and her oxygen-deprived muscles. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, to keep her gaze averted from the figure on the stairs. It was logical to assume that, should the body really be Spike, it would hinder rather than help her to reach him quickly, but that had been a dreadful miscalculation. This had only made the shock all the larger when she reached to find a deep crimson pool of blood surrounding Spike's body. She had gagged – she could remember that. She had gagged as she had continued to stare at Spike's body, mesmerised, just as she was staring at Spike's body now, once more mesmerised. She had seen the red of the fresh blood blending with the crimson of the oxidised blood, and sometimes, when she stared at Spike for too long, she could imagine life dripping out of Spike as the red turned into crimson again.

She thought she could remember a shudder running through her body, horror rendering her worse than useless. In the end, it had been no desire to save Spike's life or any return of common sense that had restored her faculties. It had been the sound of soft footsteps coming up the stairs. Her forgotten pistol had been suddenly remembered, and the muscles in her right hand had tensed, probably visibly so. It didn't matter. Even if she wasn't visibly holding her gun ready, she would have been shot before she could have turned around and fired her gun. As it was, she had chosen to kneel down, pretending to look at Spike's inanimate figure. This reduced the area that the other individual could shoot at. Not that this would help much. From this distance, it would have been near impossible for any shot directed at her to have missed her. Nevertheless, it had given Faye some much needed confidence. She had been carefully straining to hear the soft footsteps above the rest of the general noise, which had enabled her to know when these footsteps stopped.

She couldn't see from the corner of her eye, so she had known that this was make or break. Her hold on her gun had tightened further and she'd turned a full semi-circle swiftly, eyes narrowed and fingers itching to pull the trigger on the least provocation. She would have died within a second, if they had desired it.

The sight in front of her had made her relax her hold on the gun automatically. A guy stared at her, seemingly curious. He just stood and stared at her. Blonde hair, and sickening grey eyes that reminded Faye of Vicious were narrowed and, more importantly, no gun was in sight. This should have warned Faye that he was dangerous. Those who hid their guns were always more dangerous than those who brandished them around. Nevertheless, she had relaxed her hold of the gun and Grey Eyes had taken advantage.

He had stepped forward, knocking her hands out of the way as she pulled the trigger, the last shot flying as uselessly as the other five had been.

"Don't be stupid." He had said, almost emotionlessly. His eyes drifted back to Spike's inanimate body. "Is he dead?"

Faye would have thought the blunt question cruel if she hadn't realised he could have killed her, had he wanted to. She had found that her lips refused to form the words in her mind, so she merely shook her head abruptly. She had warily watched the grey eyes narrow further, his face hiding any thoughts that were going through his mind but he was clearly deep in thought. Seemingly having come to a conclusion, his head had moved a fraction of an inch in a nod of sorts, and he had looked up. "Do you need help?" he had demanded. Receiving no reply, he had said, with some impatience, "To save his life, I mean." Again, he received no reply, other than a surprised blink from Faye. "Look, are you here to kill him or save him?" He had demanded once more.

Feeling bemused and a little stunned, Faye had opened her mouth and once more, the words had stuck in the back of her throat. She wasn't used to any offers of help, especially when it came to saving Spike's life. People were more inclined to try and kill him than save him but if Grey Eyes really was offering her help, she wouldn't refuse it. The words had finally popped out. "Grab his other arm then!"

And so, they had lifted him up, Faye dragging Spike's right arm over her shoulders and Grey Eyes dragging his left. They had lugged him downstairs; when nobody did more than pause to look at them, surprise widening their eyes and then hurriedly moving on, the shrewd idea that Grey Eyes was in a powerful position had begun to formulate in Faye's mind. It was only when they had reached the bottom of the stairs that Faye realised she had no transport. The addition of Spike's blood dripping over her did nothing to lessen the sudden nausea that threatened to overcome her as she bit her bottom lip in nervousness, trying to think of a way out. She had suddenly become aware of distant sirens, slowly getting louder, and panic had started to course through her veins before Grey Eyes had spoken. "I have a car. We can come back for your ride later, if you want." It only occurred to Faye later that he had spoken in a tone that showed how he was used to command. At the time, she had just been relieved. Spike was heavy and she was leaning his body on her bruised shoulder. Most of all, each drip of his blood on her body was screaming at her to panic.

She hadn't replied, merely following Grey Eyes' lead. They had reached his car without being bothered or stopped by any of the people rushing around; the increasing volume of the sirens had created pandemonium and they were too busy trying to save their own skins to bother with what anyone else was doing. They had placed Spike on the backseat of the car, a new model which had already lost its shine. The implication had been that Faye would sit at the front, but she had chosen instead to sit in the back, placing Spike's head carefully into her lap, and trying to apply pressure to try and stem the gentle, persistent ooze of blood.

She hadn't noticed the route and he hadn't spoken a word. They had passed the sirens by going through dark alleyways, running into each other and forming a maze that could lose anyone. She knew she could feel Spike's heart beating but all she could now recall was that sickening feel of his blood. She had stared and stared at his wound over his left eye, willing the car to move faster and for this nightmare to end.

They had arrived at an inconspicuous building. Its red brick was like that of every other house on the street but this was undoubtedly their destination. She had struggled to move before Grey Eyes had hurriedly opened the door, nearly causing her to fall out in the process.

It was clear that this was not an uncommon occurrence here; they had only struggled with Spike to the front door before it was opened from the inside and some nondescript men had brought a trolley, swiftly and expertly moving Spike onto it. They had passed countless doors through several corridors before turning into a room on the left, where a doctor seemed to be waiting for them. The slightest inclination of his head and the men pushing the trolley left, leaving the doctor to get to work.

There was no need to point out the severe blood loss; a quick glance at Faye and back at Spike, and he had hurried into action, muttering something about Stage 4 and shock. It hadn't eased the nauseating panic that had been flushing through Faye's systems but the sight of a packet of blood, ready for transfusion, did ease it a little.

It was obvious that The Doctor was worried about Spike's outcome, but Faye had been unable to feel more concerned. She had either reached her maximum state of anxiety or had become numbed by it. She had watched The Doctor dip a sponge into a solution of povidone-iodine and cleanse the scratch on Spike's right cheek; out of seemingly nowhere, she had seen a needle with suture in his hands and had watched him expertly stitch the scratch together in a matter of seconds. Faye had released a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding and she had found that some of the painful anxiety had disappeared at the cost of rising nausea. She had pushed it down, wondering if she could be of any help as she watched him cleanse the wound over Spike's left eye and begin to suture it together. Faye had imagined Spike's breathing becoming less strenuous.

The Doctor had quickly assessed the several other wounds on Spike, and had elected to work on his left thigh. He had muttered something too low for Faye to hear, but she couldn't miss the tone of dissatisfaction and she had stared anxiously at Spike's face, willing him to survive. The doctor had taken Spike's trousers off to look at the wound more clearly and Grey Eyes had moved to help him. Faye had hung back, feeling slightly queasy and wholly unable to help. Her nausea had threatened to overcome her again, when Grey Eyes had pulled the wound apart, to help The Doctor gauge the depth of the wound. Clearly, it hadn't been too deep because the doctor had begun to suture the wound together, after cleansing the wound.

The rest had been a blur of confusion. Some portable machines had arrived – probably x-rays and MRIs and CT scans, to judge the damage of the organs. Spike's stomach had been pulled apart and hands had delved into his cavity, The Doctor's pair holding suture.

The whole time, blood had been dropping steadily into Spike and blood had been oozing out of him. Faye had just hoped that they were, at worst, balancing each other out. Grunts and low murmurings had drifted from where Grey Eyes and the Doctor were digging around Spike's insides but the damage couldn't have been too severe. In what had felt to be an eternity and no time at all, they were stitching the skin together on Spike's abdomen. They had gone towards his bullet wound next – trust Spike to come back with at least one bullet wound. She had clearly heard Grey Eyes say that it was a relief the bullet wasn't lodged into him and the Doctor had scornfully grunted. He had moved away from that wound and moved onto his stabbed chest. Again, it must have been fairly shallow because he was done within minutes. The bullet wound had been the last to be addressed and the most nerve racking for Faye. She hadn't been able to forget the scornful grunt of the doctor and how he had moved away from the wound. He inserted something – presumably a camera of some kind – as pictures came up on a small screen. A man had come running into a room as The Doctor had called out a name and he had taken over the camera. The intricate vessels had taken a very long time to stitch up. Either way, when the doctor had grunted that "he was now stabilised" and began to stitch the skin, Faye's knees had crumpled and she had all but fainted away. A chair had been brought into the room, another packet of blood had replaced the empty one and Faye had fallen asleep in the chair.

Her Redtail had been retrieved and mended in the meanwhile; Faye thought that altruism was unlikely to be the reason behind it. Her inherent astuteness told her that it was to get rid of a problem as soon as possible. Spike was, after all, nothing less than one hell of a problem.

That had been a little over a week ago. They had kept Spike sedated for the first couple of days, unsure of his ability to handle pain. They blatantly knew nothing of Spike. Faye had flown him back to the Bebop after that but had insisted on enough sedatives to last Spike for the rest of the week, insisting that he would be active and running around, damaging his stitches. It wasn't a complete lie. They had agreed and here they were.

Faye had eventually run out of sedatives; even though she had logically known that Spike would eventually wake up, she had put it off for as long as she could. She had initially left the Bebop with the intention to save Spike's life. She had been convinced that she would rather have a living Spike hating her with every cell of his body than a dead Spike who didn't hate her. She was sure Jet approved of her saving his life. So when Spike's life was out of danger, it had come to her as a shock to find out that not only was she terrified by the idea of Spike _genuinely_ hating her, but that she hated herself for putting her own selfish considerations over Spike's. The surprising onslaught of guilt was proving harder and harder to deal with and she dreaded nothing as much as Spike waking up from his prolonged sedation.

_**Will the winter sun keep us warm, in these cold times?**_

_**Will the winter sunlight keep you warm, untorn, untorn and alive? Alive?**_

_**I would give my life to keep you safe, for a lifetime.**_

_**I would give my life to keep you safe, for a lifetime.**_

_**I would give my life to keep you safe, for a lifetime.**_

_Author's Note:__ I haven't had this beta-read so I would appreciate any punctuation, grammar or spelling mistakes. I would also appreciate any constructive criticism._

_I want to apologise for this chapter, because, once again, there is little focus on anyone but Faye. Next chapter onwards, however, proper character interactions should begin. I feel like this chapter and the last one are basically setting up the scene for the rest of the story to take place, so please treat them like prologues (or Real Folk Blues Part III and Real Folk Blues Part IV). Have faith that the story is going to begin properly from the next chapter. Touch wood it takes less than 7 and a half months next time. ____ Thanks for reading. Have a nice day._


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